The Witches of Salem: A Harry Potter Story
by Winter Trabex
Summary: In 1692, in the town of Ipswitch, Massachusetts, witches are being burned. A witch named Esther Reed comes to town in order to investigate the persecution and burning of witches. There she finds far more than expected- or bargained for.


The Witches of Salem: A Harry Potter Story

By Winter Trabex

Chapter One

1

A witch was burning. Not that this was an unusual event in Ipswitch, Massachusets in the year 1692. Hysteria had combined with a strange hatred of all things feminine with the result that witches were accused of entering into pacts with the devil for the purpose of afflicting the town's residents with seizures and other sorts of maladies best left unmentioned. These afflictions were not real, of course. There was no way that they could be. Esther Miller had observed many such times when young women appeared to be under a cruciatus curse. That was the idea they were trying to portray, at least. There was no way that a curse of any kind could have been cast. Esther had not seen anyone wave a wand around.

Nor was it possible for someone to use the curse from a distance, unseen. The small church where the town's residents met to discuss what should be done about witches, warlocks, and other users of black magick had no places in which a person could hide. Nor was it possible for anyone to lurk outside and cast the curse without being seen. She had placed wards against such behavior. Esther had wanted the meeting to be as free from outside influence as it could possibly be.

The curses, if they were curses at all, did not last as long as the cruciatus curse ought to have lasted. The women afflicted- for it was always young women that were affected at every meeting- did not suffer any long-term effects that Esther would have expected to see from an unforgivable curse.

Once she established that no one had been nearby to curse the women, nor that anyone inside the room beside herself had done so, two possibilities occurred to her: either the young women were pretending to be under a malevolent spell, or someone had found a way to create a spell that acted like a trap. The spell trap, as she thought of it, would spring open at precisely the right time. It would have to be activated by a spoken word, or by a certain amount of time passing.

Whichever one it was, the girls did visibly appear to be under the effect of some spell or other. They soon accused another woman in the room of being a witch. It just so happened that the woman in question, Juniper Hardy, actually was a witch. She and Esther had grown up together, had attended the same school together, had gotten their first wands together, had even found they both had a love for potions. They were best friends- or had been, until Esther moved to Andover.

Esther had come to Ipswitch after hearing about the witch trials. If there was someone out there persecuting witches, she wanted to know about it. As of yet, she had not been able to figure out whether there was a dark force at work or whether the community had become so wrapped up in their religion that they saw shadows around every corner.

She believed the former explanation was more likely. If someone was planning something truly wicked in New England, the first step to be taken would be to remove any and all talented witches and wizards who might cross whatever plans would come to fruition. How a dark force knew each witch and wizard was something that Esther had not yet been able to figure out. However, she did know that not a single man or woman burned at the stake thus far had been a normal person without any magic in them.

She had not been allowed to see the trial of Juniper Hardy. It was not, the men said, a sight for the delicate sensitivities of a woman. She had been on the point of using magic then. She had almost broken the most important, most cardinal of all rules that the New England wizards had: she had almost used magic in front of non-magical people.

She had tried in vain for several days to locate Juniper. She had been unable to do so. It was only when a billowing cloud of smoke appeared in the sky that she had discovered where Juniper had been. She had been deprived of all her clothing, her wand, and her ability to speak. Her tongue had been cut out. She produced pitiful incoherent sounds that were attempts at speech. Yet she could not speak. She had been lashed to a wooden post. Around her, wooden sticks of all kinds had been placed on top of a collection of hay. Torches had been put to the hay. The fire had sprung up all at once.

The fire blackened her skin. Juniper managed to scream, though her screams sounded unnatural. Blood dripped out of her mouth and tumbled down her chin. She begged anyone to help her with the only means she had left to her: she begged with her eyes.

Esther arrived when the screams turned into shrill cries that were ripped directly from Juniper's soul. There was nothing to be done. Juniper's body had already been burned too badly. Her legs had been reduced to shriveled masses of pulsating heat. Even if a rescue could be made- which Esther doubted was possible- Juniper would die regardless. There was nothing to do but weep.

Weep she did. Esther wept for the friend she had once known, burned to death by a group of stern-looking men in black and white clothing. Esther stayed and watched until the fire burned itself out, until there was nothing left of Juniper by a blackened skeleton and a pile of smoking ash. Only then did she realize that the night had come and gone. The sky began to brighten.

A new day had come, whether Esther liked it or not. She did not believe that she did like it- not one bit.


End file.
